They Say The Dead Will Never Rise
by dyly
Summary: Chaos rules as Voldemort returns to the height of his power 17 years ago. To defeat Voldemort once and for all, Harry will have to find something that even the Dark Lord can't handle. But what if this something is in the Land of the Dead...


**They Say The Dead Will Never Rise**

**Chapter one**

**Back to the Dursley's**

**Summary: **Chaos rules as Voldemort returns to the height of his power, 17 years ago. The time has come for Harry to face him for the final time but only one will survive. To defeat Voldemort once and for all, Harry will have to find something that even the Dark Lord can't handle. But what if to find this something he has to travel to the land of the dead…

**A/N:** Hi guys, this is my first story so bear with me. Any constructive criticism would be most welcome. I am going on holiday soon so if I don't update it's because I don't have access to a computer. Also I'm starting GCSE's next year and I have chosen subjects that have ridiculously large amounts of coursework so updates won't be as quick as you might like them. But I'll do my best. AND all you have to review because otherwise I will feel lonely and unwanted and I won't know what you think of it. Anyways here goes, hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer:** hmmmmm (beard stroking moment), no, however much I wish I was JK Rowling, I'm not, so don't sue me (I am financially bankrupt so there wouldn't be any point anyway).

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Harry picked up Hedwig, who hooted gently, and pulling his trunk behind him, joined the throng of people outside his compartment, waiting to get off the train as it slowed to a halt. Hermione and Ron followed him. Looking around, Harry realised that he at least knew his future, unlike his fellow school members. He knew that he had to find the Horcruxes and eventually defeat Voldemort, it was his destiny, and everything rested on him. But those around him didn't have this luxury, they didn't know what was going to happen, they just had to wait for it knowing they couldn't do anything about it, Harry could see it on their faces the fear of the unknown, wondering how long they will have with their family. It made Harry feel sad, but also determined to finish it all, to do what Dumbledore had wanted him to do.

He stepped off the train, knowing that this was the last time he would ever do so, he couldn't go back even if Hogwarts did re-open, there were other more pressing matters to deal with. Platform 9¾ was more crowded than usual as anxious parents waited for their children to appear. Harry watched as parents and children cried in each other's arms, their tears getting the better of them. It was because of Voldemort that there were no parents waiting there for him, no parents to give him a hug and say things will be all right. He was no longer afraid when he thought about the prophecy and what he had to do; he knew that he would avenge his parents and he knew that he would have done it one day with or without the prophecy. Silently Harry, Ron and Hermione placed their trunks and animals onto trolleys and made their way over to the barrier into the muggle world. They were regulated into groups to avoid suspicion from the muggles and once they had all walked through the magical barrier into King's Cross, they walked towards the exit.

"Does your uncle know that me and Hermione are coming to stay with you?" Ron asked, while trying to muffle Pig's hoots of indignation at being hid under an old t-shirt.

"Yeah, I wrote to him a few days before we left Hogwarts to tell him you were coming, he didn't reply, but I don't think he's very happy about it" replied Harry

"But what if he gets angry and chucks us out, he knows that we can't do magic before we're 17" Hermione asked, a worried look on her face.

"He won't chuck you out, don't worry, we'll think of something and anyway they don't know about what….happened to Dumbledore and they know that Moody won't be very happy either if they try anything. Uncle Vernon was pretty scared by him when they last met, as long as he knows that Moody doesn't follow rules like the rest of us he'll be too scared to do anything. Have you told your parents that you're staying with me?"

"My parent's understand that they wouldn't be able to stop me, but they know I'll be OK with you anyway," Hermione said

"I wrote to mum as well, she wants me to stay with you because she doesn't want you out there on your own, even though she's really worried about us, you know getting killed by You-kn….Voldemort. Although she said she wanted to at least see us at Bill and Fleurs wedding, like we'd forget" Ron said, rolling his eyes.

They stepped out onto the pavement and shielded their eyes from the sun. Scanning through the crowd, they saw Uncle Vernon nervously standing by the edge of the station, probably worried that there was going to be a repeat performance of what happened the last time he came to collect Harry. He noticed Harry and his friends and immediately scowled, it was clear that he did not think very highly of Harry bringing friends with him, but he didn't say anything, maybe he thought it was too dangerous with all these witches and wizards around. Leaving their trolleys in the station and lifting their things once again, they followed him down the road to where he had parked his car. He stopped outside a gleaming Mercedes and proudly informed them that he had been given a brand new company car to go along with the promotion he received for a few 'great' business deals that brought Grunnings, the company he works for, a significant amount of money. He looked rather pleased with himself and Harry, Hermione and Ron merely nodded.

Harry didn't fail to notice the look of nervousness on Ron's face, who was evidently rather scared by Uncle Vernon, considering that none of what Harry had told him about his uncle had been flattering. However, the drive back to Privet Drive was a quiet one, apart from the time when Uncle Vernon cursed profusely, with a horrified Hermione, looking on, when a motorbike cut across them, forcing him to brake sharply. It took Harry's mind back to the time, roughly six years ago, when he didn't know he was a wizard and had foolishly told his uncle about a memorable dream he had of a flying motorcycle. This brought him onto the subject of Sirius, as it was his bike, and he felt a lump forming somewhere in his throat. He knew he should be over it but with Dumbledore's death all those feelings had been unwillingly dragged to the surface. He pushed it out of his mind; he didn't need to think of it at this time.

As soon as they arrived Harry, Hermione and Ron quickly pulled their trunks from the boot and made their way up the path. To Hermione, who was muggleborn, this was nothing out of the ordinary, but to Ron it was fascinating. He had only ever been to a muggle house twice, both of them the Dursley's. The first time was in the summer of their first year, when he had come with Fred and George to rescue Harry in their dad's flying Ford Angelia and then it had been too dark to really see anything. The second time was in the summer of their third year when they had come to get Harry to go and stay with them so that they could see the Quidditch world cup, though they had only seen the living room briefly before Dudley ate Fred and Georges ton-tongue and Uncle Vernon had lost it. So Ron had never really seen what a muggle house looked like. He looked around the garden, his eyes wide open and a look of dumb-strucked awe plastered on his face. Harry knew why. The Dursley's garden was neat and well kept; every part of it was disciplined and kept in order, rather like a military regiment in the army. Harry would know, he did most of the work himself. In contrast to this, the Weasley's garden was scraggly and over run, they preferred to let it grow, as a result it more closely resembled a small jungle rather than a garden. Harry smiled and shook his head at Ron's interest. The door was open so they let themselves in; Uncle Vernon was wiping the smudges off his new car with his sleeve, while casting subtle glances up and down the street to see if anyone was watching him.

Dudley walked out of the kitchen a can of coke clutched in his ham-like hand; he gave Harry a look of pure loathing who had no trouble in returning it.

"So you came back then and you had to bring more freaks with you, what's the matter their family not want them, rather like yours, innit" Dudley spat, his now reduced chins wobbling as he moved.

He had lost a considerable amount of fat and was now a lot leaner, though you definitely couldn't call him thin – far from it. You could still see the resemblance to his former obese self. His skin was flabby and he still had that chubbiness to him. His fists were calloused from the numerous fights he had been in, both in and out of the boxing ring.

"Piss off, Diddykins, at least I've got friends, better than those cronies you always hang out with. Does Aunt Petunia know about them yet or does she still think that you're going around to friends houses for tea when you're actually beating up other kids."

"You know, one of these days; you're going to end up like your father – dead"

With that, Dudley ambled into the living room, an ugly look plastered on his face. Shaking his head and muttering under his breath about fat morons, Harry went up to his bedroom, his trunk in one hand and Hedwig in the other, closely followed by his two friends. Harry's bedroom was the same as the last time he had been there, except a lot dustier. His Gryffindor flags were pinned up on the wall and his desk was still covered in old pieces of crumpled up parchment. They dropped their trunks at the bottom of the bed and let Hedwig and Pig out of their cages so that they could get some fresh air outside. Harry and Ron flopped onto the bed. Looking around, Harry said brightly,

"This'll be the last time I ever stay here, I'll finally be rid of the Dursley's forever, I'll never have to see Dudley ever again. I thought the time would never come."

"Yeah, you can come and stay with us, until you get your own place that is, whatever suits you, seen, as you are basically part of the family anyway. Mum wouldn't mind, you know how much she likes you." Ron said scratching his head.

"Hey Harry, are these books yours" Hermione asked from over in the corner where she was shifting through an old box of books.

"Those ones? Nah, they were in here when Uncle Vernon gave me the room. There was a whole shelf of them at first, the rest of them are in the shed, I think." Harry replied, sitting up to look at Hermione.

"Whose are they?"

"Dunno, they were always just kept here, no one ever touches them"

"Do you mind me reading them?"

"No, go ahead"

Hermione sat on Harry's chair and began to flick through the tattered leatherback books, pretty much ignoring Harry and Ron after that.

"Muggle houses are so weird, everything just so…normal and ordinary, I don't know how you do it" Ron commented with a matter-of-fact look on his face. Harry laughed,

"You get used to it, the whole not doing magic thing, it's weird for you because you grew up in a wizarding household."

Harry and Ron immersed themselves in a game of wizarding chess to pass the time while discussing the finer points of Quidditch. They had both forgotten about Hermione until she let out a sudden gasp. Ron turned so fast he cricked his neck.

"Harry, you've got to see these" Hermione said.

Harry went over to Hermione to see what all the fuss was about, leaving Ron who was rubbing his neck and muttering under his breath.

"Harry these books…" Hermione said, dwindling off at the end

"What about them, they're just old books" Harry replied, peering over Hermione's shoulder

"They're not just old books Harry, they're your parents old books from when they were at Hogwarts"

"What!" Harry said a mixture of doubt and shock on his face

"Yes look, I was reading through them and they're all from the magical world. There were notes all over the pages but I didn't really take any notice of them. Until I opened this one and saw the inside cover." Hermione opened the front cover of the book she was holding, written neatly on the top right of the first page were the words, Lily Evans, "I looked through a lot of them and they're all labeled with your parents names, Harry. Either they left them here when they finished at Hogwarts or they were brought here after their death."

Harry sat down on the floor and started pulling out books from the boxes around him, Hermione watched him anxiously.

"Look Harry, if you don't want me to read these, I'll understand. I won't tell anyone, they do belong to you anyway." Hermione said tentatively, watching him for any reaction.

Harry sighed and looked up,

"No, I don't mind they're just old study books, I just can't believe that I couldn't even be bothered to even look in here once. There's so much stuff, all to do with my parents"

"Hey Harry, didn't you say there were more of those in the shed" Ron said, watching them from the bed. Harry's eyes brightened,

"Yeah, I did, come on, they're could be loads more stuff about my parents in there"

The three of them ran downstairs bypassing Dudley who had his head stuck in the fridge while his parents weren't looking. Harry grabbed the shed key off the hook and rushed down the crazy-paved path. The Dursley's had the biggest garden in the street and a few years ago had put up a large shed to fill up the empty space in the far corner. Uncle Vernon as usual wanting to show off that he was better than everyone else had proudly hosted barbeques during the summer. They strolled into the shed and Harry flicked on the light. A light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered for a moment before illuminating the shed. It wasn't long before Ron wandered off and began rummaging through a box of Dudley's old toys, forgetting completely why they were there. Standing in the middle of the floor, Harry and Hermione looked around. The inside of the shed was dusty from dis-use and cobwebs hung freely from in between objects. The walls on their left and right were covered with rickety, wooden shelves. There was no free space as it had all been taken up by over-flowing boxes, broken furniture and other discarded items. The windows had all been covered with wood, in an attempt to stop people from breaking in. The air they were breathing in was stuffy and musty probably because no one had been in there for a long time. After the initial excitement the shed fell into disrepair, no one noticed because it was tucked away in a corner. Harry led Hermione through a maze of boxes to the back of the shed. There was a tottering pile of old furniture that looked like it would fall at any moment and after squeezing through two tables they stood in a gap. Stacked up on the back wall were boxes that looked like they had been there longer than the rest of the ones in the shed. They were identical to the few that were in Harry's room. Most of the boxes hadn't been shut properly so the books inside had a layer of dust on them. It looked as if they had been shoved in quickly and haphazardly.

"It's really dusty in here" Hermione said her forehead crinkled up in disgust

"What do you expect, no ones been in here for god knows how long" Harry said, opening boxes

"No but seriously couldn't you open a window or something. I can hardly breathe"

"It's not that bad and anyway it is not worth the trouble of fighting my over to a window"

"I still think that it's totally impractical" Hermione sniffed

They curiously poked around in the boxes nearest to them. They were covered in dust fairly quickly and they didn't make for a pretty sight.

"Harry these must be all the books your parents ever owned, mostly from when they were at Hogwarts. That's why they're two sets of every book for each year. There are lots of extra revision books that belong to your mum and I found your dad's quidditch books that you might like to read." Hermione said while rapidly shuffling through the boxes, rubbing the dust off them to see the titles beneath.

Harry, with his back to her, was lifting boxes of the stack to see what was in the ones underneath them. All he found were more books and the more he looked the more he found. He hid his disappointment from Hermione, he didn't really know himself what he wanted or expected to find. He flicked open one of his mother's charms books. It was filled with small neat notes, written beside the printed text. Putting it back inside the box it came from, Harry opened the box below it. Inside was not notes but rolls of parchment. He opened a particularly long one to see what was written on it,

The history and modern uses of the Veritaserum potion By Lily Evans 

His eyes flicked over the essay and while he was reading Hermione looked over his shoulder. Apparently she was impressed.

"Your mum must have put a lot of effort into that. The time it must have taken to do all the research needed for the things she's written about. Professor Slughorn liked it, look what he's written at the top. Hey Harry do you mind if I borrow some of these, they could be really useful"

"Yeah sure" Harry muttered distractedly.

For the next few hours they flicked through the books and rolls of parchment that were in the boxes. Ron soon joined them; finally getting bored of searching through Dudley's broken and unwanted toys. Harry's mum had always been top of the year at Charms, she must have had a particular aptitude at it because she always put the most effort and got the best marks in this subject. The only subjects she wasn't the top of the year at was Defence Against The Dark Arts and Transfiguration. Both times she piped to the top the post by James. It would seem that he had a particular talent at these two subjects. Harry thought back to the day when he had brought his wand with Hagrid at Ollivanders in Diagon Alley. What had Ollivander said about his parents wands,

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday that she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration."

That would explain that then he thought.

As they soon found out, it wasn't just Lily and James books in the boxes. They came across a few of Sirius's books as well. Harry, after his initial curiosity, had determinedly kept away from them and Ron and Hermione didn't press him. They read in silence until they finally couldn't ignore the resentful rumblings their stomachs were making.

"Blimey, I'm hungry Harry, when's lunch?" Ron said, groaning as he stood up and stretched.

"It's not lunch anymore, we're too late for that, more like dinner now. We spent ages in here. No wonder we're so hungry, we didn't have anything on the train either." Hermione said, wincing from the pins and needles in her feet, which came to life when she stood up.

"Well we can get some dinner now and we might as well take a few of these with us, there's no point coming back again today." Harry said joining them.

"That's a good idea, why don't we each take a box from the ones we haven't read, we can go through them tonight" Hermione said

They each picked a box from the bottom and made their way back to the door. Once outside, Harry dumped his box into Ron's already full arms, who grunted and almost buckled under the weight, and turned around to lock the door. It was still light outside but a tint of darker colour was creeping up the horizons and the sun was on its way down, causing the plants in the Dursley's garden to have elongated shadows. The path from the shed lead up to the side of the house and into the kitchen so they managed to avoid uncle Vernon who was now polishing his car for the third time that day. Luckily Dudley had already left with his mates so the house was practically empty except for Aunt Petunia who was dusting in the living room. Once upstairs they dropped their boxes in an empty, out-of-the-way space not near the other ones so that they would be able to identify them later. Hermione immediately began reading again. Ron shrugged at Harry with a look of despair and went to sit down on the bed. Harry ventured downstairs to see if they could scavenge some half-decent food. Looking into the living room, Harry saw Aunt Petunia hovering crumbs of the carpet. He waited patiently (or as patiently as his stomach would allow him) until she stopped. Her lips thinned when she noticed him standing by the door, he now filled the doorframe and wasn't so small and weedy anymore. Correctly guessing why he was there she said,

"There's some food in the fridge you can have" nodding towards the kitchen, she then returned to the hovering.

In the kitchen, Harry opened the fridge and bent down to see what they could have for dinner. He took out a half eaten chicken pie in a tin foil tray, a bowl of assorted vegetables and a boat of gravy that would be enough for the three of them. Leaving them on the kitchen table, he found a chocolate gateau in the fridge that had a slice taken out of it. Hopefully Dudley wouldn't notice. Then balancing all the food, plates and cutlery on a serving tray he took them upstairs. Ron sat up excitedly when Harry walked in, practically salivating on the bed sheets, Hermione on the other hand didn't even notice. Harry put the tray on his desk and served them all generous helpings. Finally catching Hermione' attention they sat down to eat. Half an hour later, Harry took down all the plates to the kitchen, Ron yawned widely and Hermione began reading again. It was some time later that Harry opened the third box that they had brought up from the shed. Hermione was reading one of his mums 7th year charms books her brows furrowed and Ron was lazily flicking through one of the magazines from his dad's collection, entitled _The Quidditch Weekly_. The top book in the box had no title or writing on the cover. It was brown and looked quite tattered. He opened the book to the first page where it declared that it was the diary of Lily Evans. Harry's heart started beating faster; this was from the time when she was at Hogwarts. He flicked through the pages, skipping whole pages at a time. By the end he was feeling quite miserable. On almost every page his mother had declared her hate for James Potter. But at the same time he got a general feeling that his mother fancied James but didn't realise it. He opened the other books in the box; they were all diaries belonging to his mother. By now ten o'clock had come and gone. Ron's yawning was contagious and Hermione was blinking rapidly in an attempt to stay awake. Through mutual consent they decided that now would be a good time to go to sleep. Neither of them saw Harry hide a box under his bed. They had planned to sleep in sleeping bags on Harry's floor but as Ron rightly pointed out, with the boxes it would have been a tight squeeze. They had hardly pondered over the situation before Ron came up with the idea that he and Hermione could sleep in the guest bedroom. Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron's grinning face; it crossed his mind that Ron must have been thinking about this a lot earlier. Deciding that there would be no point in denying Ron his happiness, and praying sincerely that nothing would happen, he agreed with the plan. And anyway he could do with the time alone to read his mum's diaries. It wasn't that he didn't trust his two best friends, he just wasn't sure if he wanted them to see the diaries right now, not before he could read them. Sometime later, after Hermione and Ron had left for their bedroom, Harry settled down to start reading.

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It was about midnight and everything was as quiet as it was going to get. The sky was dark and in this part of the country air pollution didn't cover the stars, which were shining down in all their splendour. The traffic that had cluttered the roads during the day had died down except for the occasional vehicle rumbling along at a leisurely pace. On Privet Drive silence reigned, the sounds of a lone cat raiding the bins for its dinner piercing the night. Old, flickering streetlights illuminated the newly tarmaced road, casting its light into the darkness around its solitary post. There were blank gaps where some of the lights had gone out and no one had bothered to fix them. This late into the night most people were asleep, tucked up in their beds, dreaming of happier times. All but one. At number 4 Privet Drive, a light shone from behind a window. The curtains didn't hide the clear shadow of someone who was unmistakably pacing back and forth past the window. Across from the window, standing just out of range of the streetlight was a man wearing floor length black robes. He was staring up at this window, his hood hiding his face in a shadow. He had stood there for some time now, unmoving like a statue, just watching the pacing shadow. Then as suddenly and subtly as he had appeared he melted back into the shadows.

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In the silence of the night, a restless Harry paced up and down his bedroom mulling over his thoughts. For the past few hours he had sat and read his mothers diaries, ranging from when she was in her first year to when she was in her final year. It left Harry somewhat confused. It appeared to him that his mother had hated his father with a vengeance for the best part of six years. In her diary she had noted down the numerous grievances of James Potter, from his over-inflated ego to his love of pranks. Also recorded were the many times she had made her miserable and unhappy. By now Harry was upset at how his father had behaved. He didn't remember what Sirius and Lupin had told him after he witnessed one of Snape's memories in his pensieve. But then he had picked up his mothers seventh year diary. Harry attentively read about the changes in his father's behaviour and his mother's attitude towards him. By and large it was the most confusing one he'd read and it had left him with the mother of all headaches and too many thoughts to process. Which was why he was now pacing a track into the carpet, rubbing his pounding temples. For some reason he stopped at the window to peer out into the street. Something was itching at the back of his mind. He looked across the street and then blinked. He could have sworn that there had been someone standing there, wearing robes and looking at his window. He pressed his face to the pane of glass hoping to see something but only succeeding in fogging up his glasses and the window. Maybe it was just his tired brain telling him to go to sleep. Now that he thought about it he was really exhausted. He would gain more answers by sleeping on it; there was no point in staying up any longer if he was hallucinating and so a yawning Harry finally went to sleep. In the street the robed man continued to watch his window.

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**A/N: **so there it is, I hope you liked it. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE can you review, also feel free to email me. Until next time, au revoir.


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